


Third Star

by JolijnBs



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bromance, Cancer, Friendship, Major character death - Freeform, One Shot, Other, Third Star - Freeform, Writer!Louis, Writer!Niall, but not romantically, fic version of movie, husband!Harry, lots of lilo, no ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:36:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4751702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JolijnBs/pseuds/JolijnBs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and his three closest lifelong friends go on an ill-advised trip to the stunning coastal area of Barafundle Bay in West Wales, as they deal with Louis' impending death.</p><p>Based on the movie Third Star. Most conversations come straight from the movie, but I've changed some things. And left out things that I thought weren't relevant for this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Star

There is nothing but the sound of raindrops.

They hit the ground in a soothing rhythm—almost like a monotone song. I squeeze my eyes shut to blacken the world until I see nothing. I don't feel the raindrops until I reach out my hand just far enough to feel them slide down my skin. A smile creeps onto my face that quickly fades away when I open my eyes again.  There are a pad and a pen on the table next to me. I tried to write, but I haven't been able to in far too long.  In the corner of the yard I see a football. I haven't touched it in ages, and the last time me and my friends played with it, I had to throw it, because my legs were too weak to kick.

My friends.

They should arrive any minute now. I have to get away from here. It wasn't until a late night phone call with Harry that I realised it — I needs to get away from the looks, the pity. I don't blame my mother, because I can't ask her not to cry. I can't blame my sister, because of course she wants to help as much as she can.

And I can't blame  my self for not being able to handle it any longer.

So, Harry decided to assemble our friends for a little trip to Barafundle Bay. We've been there once before, in better times. I think it must have been about seven years ago. Some of my best memories lie there and I can't wait to make new ones, for however long they'll last.

 

It is Liam who arrives first. We greet and hug awkwardly, what with me sitting down because Liam refuses to let me get up. We've known each other longer than I can — and want to — remember, and I can tell that it's hard for him. It's not easy to see your best friend's health going downhill with the speed of a race car. 

“How's our newly-wed?” I asks as I turn my face to watch him grab a chair and sit down beside me.

“Fine, everything's fine,” he replies.

“I'm sorry I couldn't stay for the party, Li. I swear I wanted to, but you know, my legs don't last long and the medication makes me tired and—”

“Not another word, Tommo,” Liam interrupts him. “It means the world to me that you were there.”

I know that he means he's happy that I was alive to see the day, but I'm grateful for him not mentioning it. To show my gratitude, I pat  his knee and  he  shoots me a tender smile before covering my hand with his and giving it a little squeeze.

“So,” Liam says, “how are you?

“Having a pretty good day, rhabdomyosarcoma-wise,” I reply with a grin.

“No, we are not doing this. You are not turning your cancer into a joke.”

“I turn everything into a joke, Payno. That's how I deal with things.”

Before Liam can reply, Harry comes walking through the door, one of his cameras hanging from his shoulder. 

“No,” Liam says again. “No, absolutely not. I agreed to this whole trip on one condition.”

“Liam,” I try.

“No! He's not taking it. He'll just be shooting pictures for the whole trip!”

“You want me to travel through one of the most beautiful parts of England and not take any pictures? I'm a photographer, what kind of torture is that?” Harry places his hands on both my shoulders and squeezes them softly. “Besides, I'd like to keep them as memories.”

“You don't need pictures to keep memories,” Liam begins to mumble, but I stop him by covering his mouth with my hand that he bites softly.

My body feels heavy as I try to push myself up out of my chair, like carrying a child who's fast asleep. Although I've gotten used to people helping me lately, I still hate being dependent, so I pull my arm away when Liam tries to help me and try a little harder until I'm standing on my two feet.

“Besides the rain, the weather's nice today, isn't it?” My voice might sound cheerful, but my friends aren't fooled easily and I can feel them watching me with careful eyes as I gather strength to make it inside the house.

 

It's my eldest sister who cries the hardest. “Please be careful,” she sobs against my shoulder.

“I will, Lottie, don't worry,” I assure her with a squeeze of her neck. Without really realising, I take in her scent. The sweet blossomy smell of my sister. Blinking back a tear, I pull out of our embrace. “I'll be fine, yeah? I'm still your big brother.” I ruffle her hair just like I used to do when we were younger, but that only causes her to cry harder, so I move on to my mother and her husband.

“Promise me you'll take your medicine,” she dictates me. “They're in Liam's bag, he knows the schedule, ask him if you're not sure anymore. Harry has the extra morphine. If anything happens to you while you're away, I swear to God...” My mother says and she suddenly looks old. My illness is taking its toll on her, and I can't help but to think it might be better for her too if she's freed of me for a little while.

I'm chatting with my mother and siblings, trying to comfort them, when we hear a car approaching. It's Niall's truck, with a bright red cart tied down onto it.

“What's that?” I ask after he climbs out of the car.

“It's a cart. For you to sit on.”

“But I—”

“Mate,” Liam jumps in, “don't even try it. Did you really think we'd let you walk all the way with that stick of yours? No way.”

_We'll see about that_ , I think, but I let it rest for now. 

 

My walking stick sinks into the mud as I walk back and forth between the car and the cart. It's pretty much useless, because my friends won't let me help them transfer the luggage, anyway.

“Why don't you sit down, hm?” Niall asks as he stops me to a hold by patting my shoulder. “Spare your strength, okay? We've still got a long way to go.”

A little hesitant, I grunt, but sit down on a bench beside the parking lot.

“How was it, saying goodbye?” he asks then.

“Emotional, as you saw.”

“I saw. Well, fortunately it's only for a few days.”

I just nod.

 

I would never admit it, but it's all a lot more exhausting than I thought it would be. Stubborn as I am, I want to walk as much as I can, but it only takes them twenty minutes of very slow steps to force me to take a seat on the cart.

“I'm not a child,” I mumble as Niall makes sure the weight between me and the luggage is spread evenly.

“Can I be blunt here?” Liam asks.

“Go ahead.”

“You're sick, Louis. You're not a child, but you're sick. We are happy to take this trip with you, but for the love of God, don't complain when we try to help you.”

I look my friends in the eye one by one—except for Niall, who escapes my gaze. “Is that how you all feel, then?” I ask.

“Louis...” Harry starts. “I understand that it's hard to accept our help, but this would be a lot easier on all of us if it just became a natural thing, okay? We don't want to baby you, so don't make us feel like we are.”

“Niall?” I ask—my last hope, but he shakes his head.

“Please don't, Lou,” he says, nervously tucking at his blond hair.

“Fine,” I say. “Just push the damned thing, then.”

The silence is awkward after that. Liam pushes the cart along and my hips and lower back ache with every bump in the rocky road, but I'm not allowed to complain, so I don't. I hear soft whispers from behind me; Niall and Harry discussing the privileges of being single,  even though Harry's been in a relationship for years . Apparently not being tied to anyone is better than being married, like Liam. They don't understand that being alone is the worst situation to be in when you know it will never change. Truth be told, I'm glad they don't. The only way to understand is to be in that situation yourself and I can tell you, it's horrible. Sometimes I'm relieved, but only because I know I won't  leave anyone a widow.

“Louis?” Liam's soft voice and his firm hand on my shoulder disrupt my thoughts as we come to a stop. I can't tell you how often people touch me these days. “It's time for your medicine,” he says. I watch him as he crouches down in front of me and unzips his backpack. His brown eyes look at me tenderly as he takes out multiple small bottles and puts them in the grass between us.

These past months have been hard on him. He's been by my side the most right after my parents and sister. I told him from the start to focus on his own life, his wedding, but I've given up. Sometimes I can tell how afraid he is and I think that's why he refuses to not see me every day. He needs to be able to look in the mirror and know that he did everything he could after I'm…

“Here you go,” he says with a kind smile as he hands me my pills and a cup of water. I swallow everything and give him back the cup, which he stacks in his backpack without another word.

 

It doesn't take long before we see a small inn and Harry yells, “Hey, The White Bull!”

“I thought you knew where we were,” I laugh.

“Well, I do now!”

As we come closer, we hear the sound of music and laughter, and realise there's a part going on. The terrace is surprisingly crowded, considering we're basically in the middle of nowhere. 

Harry films us, running backwards, and Niall dances around the cart while Liam pushes me towards a table.

“Loving this, boys,” Harry says with a bright smile as he focuses on the little screen on his camera.

Niall finishes his dance with a jump and a loud laugh before he offers  to get beers.

“I'll have the Guinness,” I say.

There's Liam's hand on my shoulder again. “Oi, a lcohol and morphine don't mix,” he warns.

I sigh and hold up my hand to count on my fingers. “I'll have never taken LSD and lost my shoes playing poker. I've never had a bandit hold a gun to my head.” Looking up at Liam, I can tell he doesn't understand what I'm talking about. “Don't you ever get the urge to do something really dangerous?” I ask as clarification. 

He shrugs. “Eat some undercooked pig.”

“I mean a real thrill, a man thrill.”

Chuckling, Liam raises his eyebrows and says, “Steady there,” but I ignore him.

“We've all forgotten that moment when you realise you'll never play in the World Cup Final, or be the first man on Mars. All those daydreams become fantasies rather than possibilities.”

He simply smiles at me and shrugs again. “I have no response to that. This is nice though, isn't it?”

I take his hand in mine and squeeze it as my answer. Next thing I know, I hear Harry's voice coming from somewhere in the crowd. He's pulling two man apart who are in a fist fight, but in the process, he slings his arm backwards and hits a woman in the face. He tries to apologise, but before he  can finish , the man next to her pushes him.

Liam and I can't  help but chuckle as we watch the thing go down, and we laugh out loud when Niall offers us a nut. Right after  he swallows some himself, he moves towards the crowd to break up the fight.

Looking up at Liam again, I grab the handles of the cart and say, “Li, I'm going in.”

“This is what I'm talking about with your morphine chases, you're drunk!” He sighs, but I spy a little smile around his mouth.

“Maybe,” I admit. “A little.”

Biting his lip, Liam looks from me to the fight and back again. “I don't know, Louis. Maybe you should sit this one out.”

“No!” I insist.

When a man grabs Niall's jacket and pulls him to the ground, I take it as my cue. I grab my cane as my weapon, and look at Liam one more time. “Ramming speed,” I tell him. He's hesitant, but a  grin takes over his face before he gets behind me and gives the cart a hard push.

We go in laughing, my cane pushing people to the side. Not entirely surprising, they don't appreciate it. They come for Liam first, but soon a man fists the collar of my jacket and swings his arm back, ready to punch me. As I try to dodge his hand, I fall off the cart and hit the ground.

“Not him!” Liam yells from behind me. “He's got cancer!” It doesn't stop the man, and he laughs it off as he moves in to punch me again. “I'm not shitting you,” Liam says. “You just don't hit people with cancer.”

That stops the fight. I climb back on the cart as fast as my heavy legs allow. Liam nods towards Niall as he takes a hold of the handles again, and Niall gives the man who tried to punch me one last kick in the balls. 

We laugh as we run—or in my case drive—off.

“Sensible retreat, but the tide was turning!” Harry yells as we leave the crowd behind baffled.

 

We decide not to walk much further today. The sun is setting and we're tired. Tired from walking, tired from laughing. The fight is all we talk about as we look for a spot to set up our tent s . Niall gives Liam one snarl for allowing me to join in the fight, but I tell him to back off.

The sleeping arrangement is the same as it has been  for  as long as we've known each other; Harry and Niall in one tent, Liam and I in the other. It's comforting to have Liam with me. He knows all there is to know about my medication and he won't hesitate to give me a morphine shot if I wake up in a sweat in the middle of the night. Neither will he to hold me if I have one of my nightmares.

Oh, my nightmares.

I put them off for a while longer as I listen to Harry and Niall bickering.

“Why would you sleep naked in a tent with me?” Niall asks, disgust clear in his voice. “I don't wanna feel you poking me in the back.”

“Yeah, did you feel that in the middle of the night?” Harry laughs.

Liam and I smile at each other once they stop, but then we hear Harry say, “What is that?”

“I think I farted,” Niall says sincerely. “I'm sorry.”

“Aw, Jesus.”

“I think we laid our tent on a cow pat.”

“I knew that pillow was too good to be true.”

“Nah, that's my arse, actually.”

It was a nice distraction while it lasted, but soon their voices die and Liam says goodnight. I lie flat on my back. Not because it's comfortable, but because it's so  _un_ comfortable that I might not be able to sleep because of it. It's stupid, I know, because I'll need as much energy as I can get the next couple of days. It's just those nightmares…

They're not always the same. Sometimes I dream about how it all started; the pains in my muscles, not being able to hold my food down, the doctor saying it's just the flu. Other nights about that time my chest hurt so much I thought I'd die right then and there. I don't remember much from that night, but I do remember the cries from my mother—the way only a mother can cry. I also remember the siren of the ambulance that was so loud I thought it would make my brain explode.

I don't know what I dreamed about this night, but it must have been bad, because I wake up with Liam's voice right in my ear and his arms wrapped around me. At first I try to shake him off, still half asleep and confused to be in this small tent with my best friend.

“It's okay, Louis,” he whispers as his hand rubs up and down my arm. “I'm here. It's okay, it was just a nightmare.”

I'm not sure who he's trying to comfort; me, or himself.

 

The next day we take the ferry to continue our journey. I like sitting on the deck and feeling the cold air caressing my cheeks. It can't touch much else of my skin, since I'm dressed in warm clothes from head to toe—from a beanie and a hoodie to two pairs of socks. I'm so cold these days.

Once we reach the other side of the lake, I try not to panic. I'm completely out of breath and think I might start to hyperventilate soon, but I don't want my friends to notice. They're setting up the tents for our second night, and joking as they do so. I don't want to spoil their fun.

I give up when my legs start to ache unbearably. “Liam,” I breathe, and he turns around immediately. “I can't get up.” He crouches down beside me and reaches out his arms to pull me up, but I shake my head. “No, no, I'm okay. It's just a bit more than I'm used to. Just need to take some meds and I'll be okay.” When I see the worry on his face, I try to smile. He squeezes my shoulder as he gets up to get my medicine.

Three pills and a bit of water. That should be enough for now.

“Don't tell the others,” I beg, and Liam nods hesitantly.

Fortunately, the  pills kick in quickly and the pain disappears, although never completely. I let out a sigh and realise that for twenty eight years, I never appreciated the ability to breathe enough. I'm twenty nine now, and I know I won't make thirty.  Just two more years until Liam and Niall do, three for Harry. God knows what will happen in those years, let alone the ones after that.

 

The sky is clear that night, the stars bright. Harry and Niall set up a camp fire earlier, and we sit around it in the simple yet comfortable chairs we brought. Looking up, I wonder if I'll be there someday soon.

“It's third star to the right and then straight on till morning,” I hear Liam say.

“I thought it was second star,” Harry says.

“Well, no wonder we're constantly lost,” Niall jokes and we all laugh.

“D'you know, if this was heaven,” I say after a bit of silence, still looking up to the sky, “I'd be pretty fucking chuffed.”

Niall huffs. “I like the way you subtly brought it back round to you dying. I'd forgotten.”

We all laugh, but it's uncomfortable, awkward. Of course it is. None of this is funny.

“No, seriously though,” I say. “I don't believe in the pearly gates. What do you think, Liam?” But he doesn't reply. I've given this a lot of thought and I can't figure out where I'm going to end up. I'd like to hear what he thinks. “Come on,” I encourage him.”

He sighs. “I don't know. I want to believe in something like… God. And I do. I do.”

“Reincarnation,” Harry chimes in from my other side. “Born again.”

“As a mollusc?” I joke to lighten the mood. Fortunately, he sees the humour in my remark and laughs.

“Don't piss on my Nirvana!” he says.

“No, but seriously,” I take over again. “Our souls… I don't know, but I've done a lot of thinking and reading about it recently of course, and I think it's got something to do with that magic science we barely know anything about like… dark matter.” I'm not even sure where I'm going with this, but I just need to talk about it. I need to somehow sort my thoughts and know what my friends think. As I make the mistake of looking to my right, I see a single tear rolling down Harry's cheek. Looking back up to the sky, I continue. “Actually, there's a belief in Buddhist faith about a kind of constant energy. Quantum physicists have proven its existence. Perfect timeless universal space.”

“Yeah...” Liam says and then; “What?”

We laugh, but I want to talk about this seriously. “It's just… like being, is-ness. I can't help but picture myself this dust dancing in the flicker light. Millions of atoms of constant… is-ness.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Liam asks, and we all laugh again, but I hear the annoyance rising in his voice. I ignore it, though—for now.

“Just picture me tap dancing in the firmament and I'll be well happy,” I say, and then turn to my left. “What do you think, Niall? What happens when we snuff it.”

“No idea,” he says, keeping his gaze fixed on the horizon, not a single emotion on his face.

“You must have thought about it,” I press. “What's your instinct? I want to know.”

He shrugs. “After your 'dancing across the stars' do you wanna hear that I think there's nothing? That you'll rot and that's it?”

“That's what you think?”

“Yeah.” Niall looks down at his shoes kicking around some sand. Harry takes over.

“I suppose one day we'll live on in our kids,” he says, and my chest clenches. I don't have kids, nor will I ever have any. There's no time left. Does that mean I'll be forgotten the moment I leave this Earth? I know that's not true, know that my friends and family will remember me, but Harry's comment still hurts.

I try to let it go, since I know he didn't mean it like that. But come next morning, it's still on my mind and I'm moody as hell. I listen to my friends chatter around what's left of the camp fire as I crawl out of the tent. Harry mentions that he loves the cup of tea he's drinking but then adds more water to it, and somehow something snaps inside of me.

“You make a great cup of tea that gives you real pleasure. Then you go and ruin it.” My voice is surprisingly calm. I take Liam's cigarette from him and take a drag before I add, “Why don't you finish it, then get off your ass and make a new one?” Niall and Harry laugh, but that only fuels me. “Oh Harry, you were gonna film tree frogs in the Amazons, save the planet, and instead you're filming some heinous piece of daytime TV shit in order to pay a mortgage to live with a girl that you don't even...” I don't finish my sentence, but take another drag of the cigarette. Liam raises his hand to stop me, but I don't care. Even smoking a thousand cigarettes wouldn't make me die any faster than I already am. I turn my gaze back to Harry. “I don't recognize you anymore,” I say, the bitterness clear in my voice. “You're getting more and more watered down every day.”

Harry just stares at me, clearly hurt, but Niall speaks up first. “Nice,” he says. “Was that rehearsed?”

“Shut up, Niall,” I bite back.

“Lou, lots of people would kill for Harry's job. And at least he's in a relationship, unlike us.”

Suddenly Harry sits up a little straighter and opens his mouth. “I just never seem to get things done the way I thought I would. When I'm happy, I just...” He waves his hand at nothing. “And now…”

“I love lessons learned through anecdotal observation,” Niall chimes in again, clearly annoyed with me. “But seriously, did you prepare that? Like you finish anything, anyway.”

I take another drag from the cigarette, preparing my next sting, but I start to cough. Hard. My abs hurt as I lean over and spit on the sand at my feet. Of course, Liam is by my side at once, but I swat him away.

“Are you nauseous?” he asks, but I tell him I'm fine. 

As I cough even more, I see Niall  looking away in the corner of my eye. I don't care right now, it all hurts too much. “Oh fuck,” I say as I sit down in the sand and squeeze my eyes shut.

“Here, take the Phemoryl,” Liam says as he hands me a bottle and sits behind me so I can lean back against his chest.

Harry and Niall move away a bit as I calm down, finding comfort in Liam's warmth.

“Niall,” Harry says, “You know a lot about women.”

“No, I don't.”

Harry laughs, because we all know that's not true. Ignoring him, he says, “Me and Sara have been together seven years now, and I just…”

“Harry, we both know that most people settle for something they think is better than being alone,” Niall says, and I imagine him shrugging as he watches the lake.

“Great. Is that me?”

“I don't know. How should I know?”

“Why do I even want the opinion of a man who doesn't believe in love,” Harry says, by the sound of it more to himself than to Niall.

“The love you're talking about is like an addiction,” Niall explains, his voice calm. “You should be thinking 'I can't live without you today', every day. You'd do everything to make her want you more. Make her want you.”

I open my eyes at that, because I've never heard anything like that come out of Niall's mouth. He never seemed to care about love.

“Someone chinked the armour?” Harry asks, facing Niall.

“No.”

“Okay.” Kicking the sand, Harry thinks. “Do you always tell me the truth?”

“Yes.”

Liam moves me so I can sit up myself and then whispers in my ear, “Hold on, I'm going to prank them.” 

I laugh, because Liam's pranks are always good—I've taught him well.

“Is there really such a thing as multiple orgasms?” Harry asks Niall.

“Yes...”

“Ah fuck.”

Just as they start to laugh and move in to hug one another, Liam walks up to them. He shows them his most serious face as he says, “I need you guys to hold Lou down. I have to get this up inside him.” He holds up a piece of soap that looks like a larger version of my suppositories. For a moment they look from him to me in disgust, but then get the joke and start chasing Liam down the beach.

“You bastard!” Niall yells.

“Give me that soap so I can stick it up _your_ arse!” Harry joins him.

And just like that, we're all laughing again.

 

T hat night by the time we set up our tent after hours of walking, it's raining. It's putting us all in a bit of a bad mood, but Niall just dances like the crazy person he really is.

Liam and I watch him from inside our tent and laugh, but Liam's laugh dies when I open a bottle.

“You've been hitting the morphine kind of hard,” he says, his eyebrows knitted together. To make a point, I keep my eyes on his as I take a gulp. Liam goes back to organising my medicine and some other luggage.

Harry appears from his and Niall's tent, dressed in a rain suit from head to toe. “Guys, if this weather keeps up, how about we anchor down here for an extra night?”

“No,” Niall says as he runs towards the tent and crawls inside it. “I have to get back to work.”

The sound of a zipper closing beside me tells me Liam is done organising our things, and he says, “I still think we're carrying too much stuff. I mean, the fireworks...”

“Liam!” Harry yells.

“Fireworks?” I ask surprised.

Niall pouts. “You've ruined it.”

“What fireworks?” I press, tickling Liam's side.

“I'm sorry,” he says as he laughs and leans into my touch.

With a sigh, Harry explains, “We had this idea, because you love looking at the stars and dancing through the cosmos and all that, that we'd put on a firework display for you at Barafundle.”

Endeared, I shoot him a grateful smile as I wrap my arm around Liam's neck and kiss the top of his head.

“But they weigh a ton,” Niall says, “So can we just light the fuckers here?”

So that's what we do.  It's beautiful, how all the colours mix together in the sky, becoming one with the stars. I'd like to think that's what happens when you die; your soul, or spirit, or whatever it is humans are made of, rises up to the sky to become one with all the souls of the people who died before you.

I'm guessing Liam is thinking the same thing as he looks at me from where he's sat beside me.  He scoots closer to me and presses his lips against my temple. “Not for a long while, mate,” he whispers, but I know better.

 

I dream about the fireworks, the explosions of colours and souls. Then all of a sudden I'm standing on a beach—maybe the one at Barafundle, I'm not sure. The waves keep coming closer and I just stand there, as if I'm waiting for them. There are dead animals all around me and I don't know where they came from, but for some reason they don't worry but comfort me. How can I be comfortable standing on a beach surrounded by dead animals watching the waves coming closer to take me in?

And then I wake up.

I crawl out of the tent, careful not to wake Liam up. I'm still fully dressed from the night before, so it's not much of an effort.

Sitting down a couple of meters away from the tents, I play with some blades of grass. A few warm, slow tears roll down my cheeks as I think of the dream. I can't even call it a nightmare. Apart from the dead animals, it's a dream I've dreamt countless of times over the past weeks. Sometimes I think I'm ready for the sea to take me in. I think about my parents and my siblings, and wonder what will happen to them when I'm gone. Harry and Niall will be sad, of course, but Liam… I don't know what will happen to him. But still I—

“Lou?” I hear Niall's voice say behind me. “Are you alright, mate?”

I clear my throat without making much sound and nod before pushing myself up. Apparently they're all up and having breakfast, a small plate waiting for me.

“We shouldn't have cooked all the beans last night,” Liam says more to himself than us as he browses through our packs of food.

“We have plenty of food,” Harry says tiredly, and Liam turns to him.

“I'm not worried about me.”

I already know where this is going as I sit down again and start eating my breakfast in silence.

Niall's loud sigh confirms my expectation  by saying, “Jesus, stop.”

“Stop what?” Liam asks. “Stop making sure he gets to do this bloody trip? You two don't have any idea how much responsibility I have to take so you can just piss about.”

Although I know that Liam sacrifices a lot for me and that he worries the most, Niall and Harry just laugh. “ You get thanks all the time,”  I say.  I don't to sound mean, but by the look on his face, that's how he takes it.

“Well, that's nice.”

“Liam, why are you so desperate to be needed?” I ask, because I've been wondering for quite some time now. I know that part of it is just him wanting to take good care of me, but it seems there's more to it.

He huffs and shrugs. “I'm glad you see it that way, I don't.”

“I'm grateful!” I say quickly, because I need him to know that I am. “But what are you going to do when I'm not around? I can't picture it.”

“Who knows, Lou?” He smiles lightly.

“Yes, but before you used to moan about how you felt you were being taken advantage of at work until you lost your job, and then I think my cancer came along at just the right time.”

Niall sighs again. “I shall treat you all to a shrink when we get back, but for now can we just have a laugh?”

I ignore him. “It's not about failing, it's about finding your...”

“If you say raison d'etre I'm going to kill myself.”

“Shut up, Niall, this is—”

“Repugnant? Boring?”

I still ignore him and focus solely on Liam. “What do you want?” I ask him as sincerely as I can. “What special thing are you searching for?”

“Louis,” Harry suddenly says. “He's doing fine, okay? And you're being a bit harsh.”

Holding up my hand,  I silence him, because I need to ask Liam this, no matter how harsh it is. I need to know what's going to happen to him after I'm gone. “It's not about the cards life dealt you, Li, it's about the hand that you feel safe playing.”

Niall laughs, actually laughs. “I thought the tea-life making metaphor was good, but that was exquisite,” he says and I'm so done.

“You know, Niall, it's so easy to take the piss, but I'm angry with all of you.” I suddenly break. Usually I see these moments coming, but this time I don't. A desperate sob escapes my throat as I say, “I don't want to die! I want… more time. I want more time! I'd take any of your pointless consumer-fucker lives! I was going to do so much. I was going to be special. And I know it sounds pompous—”

“You are,” Niall confirms.

“You make me sick,” I tell him in return.

“Don't,” he says with a shake of his head. “I love my life. Cancer's no excuse for being an egomaniac. Why are you special?”

“Right, so you don't think I would have amounted to anything as a writer?” He'd better not agree, because he knows how much it kills me that I'll never be able to publish anything. There's not even something left on my laptop or stacked away in some dusty drawer for someone to find longer after I'm gone.

He surprises me by saying that he doesn't know. “That's the point, I don't know! But by our age my father had already written three books. Your writing's good, Lou, but you only finally sat down to do it because it became too painful to stand up.”

His last comment seems to hurt Liam more than it hurts me, because he looks at him with anger written all over his face.

“What? You want to hit me now?” Niall dares him, but Liam just looks at Harry, who looks away.

“We're not your secretaries,” Liam says slowly. “We don't run away if you turn nasty.”

Niall throws his hands up in the air. “I'm telling him the truth!”

“I know, but _why_? Why are you so cruel? You're just cruel! There's other ways to get what you want.”

“Liam, it's like you're actually looking at my soul through a microscope. Come on, guys! We don't need to be doing this! We should be laughing and talking bollocks about the good old days—” 

“I've read your book,” I say before I even realise I'm going to. I wasn't planning on telling him. “He finished it years ago,” I inform Liam and Harry, who just look at us confused.

“When did you read it?” Niall asks through his teeth.

“Two years ago,” I admit. “I knew you'd been writing something and I snooped around on your computer and there it was. Finished. I copied it, but I didn't read it. And then I got sick and I gave in to my desire, even though I knew you'd never, ever be able to forgive me.”

“Mate! If you wanted to get something off your chest, why didn't you just call me? I'd have come round, we'd have had a chat, watch the telly and pretend you weren't sick.”

“I _am_ sick,” I remind him.

“ _Because_ you are! And when you're gone, you won't… You won't know that this is fucking killing me!” He looks away from me, not wanting to look me in the eye any longer. “It's not worth talking about it, it's not going to change anything. This is just unnecessary fake soul searching which everyone is doing these days, and I can't even say the _real_ stuff, because I just might not get a chance to see you again.”

“You don't need to apologise, Niall...”

“I wasn't going to apologise, you arrogant little fuck. I'm right, and we don't apologise. I can say this shit, come back in five minutes and say nothing. That's the whole point!”

I stay silent for a couple of seconds to give him time to cool off. Niall and I have these discussions once in a while. My friendship  with him is not like it is with Liam or Harry. We tend to ignore the serious stuff and just have fun together. But life isn't always fun, and it comes out every once in a while.  Hard.

“Your book—” I start, but he interrupts me.

“Ah, shut up.”

“You know it is.”

He shakes his head. “This trip has been like a walk with a sick white Oprah, you would hate you right now.”

I smile and eventually even laugh. At first he still looks angry, but eventually he laughs too and says, “Thank you.”

 

Later that day, I rest my head on Liam's lap and take a sip of my morphine. So far the pain's not as bad as I expected it to be, but it's just bearable.

“Liam,” I say sleepily, “What do you really think about what I said to you earlier?”

He sighs and brushes my hair with his fingers. “You have no right to talk to me like that, Lou. None.”

“Why didn't you say so in front of the others?”

“Loyalty, you prick.” He smacks my head playfully, and I chuckle.

“I'm sorry, Li.”

“I know you are.”

I close my eyes for a second and think about the sea again. The waves, waiting to take me under.

“Harry,” Niall's voice sounds, “Is this all the gas we have left? Harry?”

Liam moves beneath me. “I think he's asleep,” he says.

Sitting down next to us, Niall puts the camping stove down and looks over to Harry,  who's lying on his back with his arms stretched out. “God, it's good to see him off the leash,” he says. “He's a beautiful, bighearted force of nature and she crushes every natural urge in him. It's a horrible relationship.”

“How do you know what he wants?” Liam asks, but it turns out Harry is not really asleep.

“Sara is pregnant,” he says, not moving or even opening his eyes.

I sit up and lean against Liam's shoulder. “Why didn't you say anything?”

He shrugs as best as he can lying down. “I wanted to enjoy the walk.”

Niall clears his throat and makes a quite poor effort at congratulating him. “I'm not saying it's good news, in the circumstances, but you'll be a brilliant father.” After a pause, he asks, “Is it definitely yours?” It's a good thing he asks it in a joking manner, but we're not big fans of Sara.

“As far as I know,” Harry answers.

“And she wants to keep it?”

“Baby or not,” Liam says, “If she isn't the one...”

Harry huffs. “Of course she isn't the one.”

Coughing a little, I sit up straighter and wave my hand as I speak. “Then use this as the opportunity to have  a fresh start, Harold.”

“Shut up, Lou.” I'm surprised by his reaction, since he seemed so cool about this, so I take his advice and shut up.

 

Our travel keeps getting harder; the path steeper and only grass. When it's too dangerous to sit on the cart as two push it up, or slide it down, one has to carry me. It's humiliating, being carried like a child, but if it's what I have to do to be able to reach Barafundle Bay; so be it.

As Harry carries me up a hill, something inside me seems to snap and the pain is agonising. Gasping, I let go of Harry's shoulders and fall to the ground, which causes even more pain. I yelp and gasp and scream. Harry apologises over and over, even though it wasn't his fault. I don't know what causes the pain, these things happen.

Liam hovers over me and tries to calm me down, but Niall walks around in circles. “We have to get him back,” he decides. “I'll run on. Harry, you run back. We might see a boat, or people, or—”

“Shut up, Niall,” Liam says. “He's fine. We're fine.”

I hold his face with both hands and I couldn't tell you why even if you pointed a gun to my head. I just need to see his eyes. The pain goes on and I don't know when it will stop, so I scream some more, squirming on the grass.

“Harry!” Niall tries. “This is ridiculous.”

“I don't know,” Harry says, out of breath. He holds my hand as Liam runs over to the cart.

“Niall, you carry Lou for a bit,” Liam says as he rummages through our bags.

“Don't tell me what to do.”

“Will you just shut up, Niall? This isn't about you right now!” He points down to me while keeping his eyes fixed on Niall. “Pick him up.”

“No.”

“Pick him up!”

“Fuck you.”

“Pick him up, you fucking coward.”

Next thing  I know,  they're on the ground fighting. My breathing's calmed down and I sit up to watch them wrestle. “Shouldn't we stop them?” I ask Harry.

He smiles down at me, his green eyes tender and his dimples deep. “We should, but it's kind of fascinating.” After a little while, he says, “Alright, let's call it a draw.”

The two m e n untangle themselves from each other and it's hard to tell, but I think they're laughing through their anger. Liam is the first one to turn serious again.

“This wasn't the plan,” he says as he sits up and looks down at Niall who's still lying flat on his back. “Why are you even here, Ni? We didn't expect you to turn up. This is actually happening. And it hurts. And it's been surprisingly amazing.” He looks at me. “I've been around for all of it. He needed me, and I was here for him and I'm really sorry you have such a problem with that.”

After that it's silent. Liam pushes himself up off the ground and walks back over to the bags, putting them back on the cart.

“You're right,” Niall suddenly says, and I look at him. I'm surprised to find sadness in his eyes. “You're right, I wasn't gonna come. Your illness disgusts me, Lou. It shocks me. I couldn't physically be around it. It's true, I haven't been there for you. I'm sorry.” He gets up as well, walks over to me, and holds out his hand. “Come on, you bugger.”

I'll take his apology any day.

 

That afternoon, we reach our destination. Barafundle Bay. It's just as beautiful as I remembered. The beach is almost white, like it belongs in the tropics instead of Wales, there's not one person in sight, and the temperature is nice with a soft breeze. It's everything I wanted.

Niall puts me down and Liam wraps an arm around my chest as he stands behind me.

“We're here, Lou,” he whispers, and I smile the brightest I have in ages.

We christen the beach by playing in the surf, just like we did all those years ago. Well, not really; this time I can't go in further than my ankles, and after a short while I have to sit down. But it's still fun and all I want.

It's Niall who comes sit by me. We just sit and watch Liam and Harry swimming around for a while before I speak.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “Who the fuck am I to tell you how to live your lives?” He doesn't respond, and I take it he accepts my apology. “There is no ribbon to tie around it all, is there? I thought I was ready and now… I look at Harry and I think, if I could just get through another nine months. Or hold on long enough to see what becomes of my siblings. I'm leaving early. And it all goes on without me.”

He doesn't say a word.

 

I take some time to gather my thoughts while the others set up our tents and another camp fire. Harry is the one who comes to get me once dinner is ready—as far you can call what camping food we have left dinner.

As we all look out at the dark sea in front of us, I say, “I'm going for a swim.”

Liam puts his hand on my knee. “Your mum told you not to.”

“I know.” I swallow, knowing the weight of what I'm going to say next. “Tomorrow, I'm going to swim out into the middle of the bay and I'm not going back. I know the enormity of this, but I'm asking you to let me swim.”

Not a beat passes before Liam says no. And then Niall.

“Lou,” Harry says, “We can't let you, mate.”

“You can. The question is; will you?”

Harry looks at me almost offended as Niall stares at the fire and Liam at me. “Has this been your plan all along?” Harry asks. “I thought you wanted to live. Why would you—”

“Because this is how my life is going to be from now on.” I try to keep my voice steady, but the tears are already coming. “Because of the pain. Because of the drugs that I take for the pain, because of the drugs that I take for the side effects of the other drugs… You've all seen it, it's only going to get worse.” I point to my temple. “My life is all up here now, really, but it's taking over and gradually I'll sleep further and further into thinking solely about pain and that's not worth living for.”

“I don't know what the pain's like, but surely we can—” Harry tries, but there's nothing.

“Try what, Haz?”

“I don't know, but we can't—”

“You can,” I assure him and I smile softly at him and then Niall. I can't look at Liam. He's already sobbing.

“What would we tell your mum and dad?” Harry asks.

“This is insane!” Liam yells. “I can't believe you're talking about this normally!”

“You would tell them the same as you'll tell the police. That you woke up in the morning and I was gone. That you searched the dunes and then you saw something floating in the sea. You went to get me, but by then it was too late.”

I don't notice the tears on my face until I stop speaking.  Liam  still  just stares at me, like he's unable to move, not even to wipe away his tears.

“Every time I'd saw your family, I'd know they could have had you for another day,” Harry says, shaking his head all the while. “They could have had a proper goodbye.”

“That's just it,” I interrupt him, desperate. “There won't be a better goodbye than the one we just had.”

“There will,” Liam decides, his voice thick. “It isn't time yet.”

I finally look at him, but I wish I hadn't. The pain on his face breaks my heart, but I have to explain this. “I have never been so alive, and now I want to end it, to actually finish something.” I look at Niall now and think about our argument. “I want to finally finish something.”

Harry grabs a handful of sand and throws it into the fire. “Why don't you  j ust go home and overdose like normal people? It would be painless, you'd just fall asleep.”

I shake my head. “It would be giving in. If I swim out and the sea takes me, it's different. I would be making a choice. I want to be conscious until I'm gone, I want to feel something, even if it's the pain of salt water in my  lungs . I want to  _feel_ , to fight something huge and terrifying and brave.”

My voice and eyes and tears practically beg them, but I can already tell their answer. And it makes sense.

“I promised your mum I'd bring you back,” Liam says and he looks almost guilty, even though I was the one who asked him the hardest question of all.

Harry is second. “I'm sorry, Lou.”

I look at Niall, but I know there's no hope. He simply shakes his head.

“Okay.” I give up as the tears stream down my cheeks. “Okay, I'm sorry. It's too much to ask.”

 

That night is the worst one since this trip started. I wake up after not even an hour's sleep. Sweat is pouring out of me and everything, literally everything hurts. I cry and I try to scream, but I can't make much noise. It all hurts too much. The tent seems too small and I roll onto my side to clench to Liam's leg, who's sitting up beside me, searching through our bags. He looks at me once, panic written on his face, before he crawls out of the tent.

“Liam!” I yelp and I'd be ashamed of the desperation in my voice had we been in a different situation. Right now all I can think about is surviving, making it through this terrible, terrible pain.

“I can't find his meds bag,” I hear him say outside. “It must have slipped out. He doesn't have any morphine left.”

Everything seems to ache even more as panic rushes through my body. “I'm not deaf!” I yell as best as I can through locked jaws.

“We'll find it,” Harry says. “Niall, come on!”

“Liam, please,” I say. I need him with me, I can't be alone.

He's back inside within seconds, his eyes bloodshot and cheeks wet. I tell him that I can't breathe over and over as I cry and try to sit up to hug him, but he holds me down.

It's never been this bad. I know he's cried after one of my attacks, but never with me in the room. Now his head is on my chest and he's sobbing.  _This isn't good_ . 

I keep shaking and sobbing. The weirdest noises come out of my  mouth as I try to control my body, try to control the pain. There must be marks on Liam's arm from how hard I'm pinching him, but he doesn't seem to care. I need to hold him, and from what it seems, he needs to hold me too. His hand is on my head, his thumb caressing my forehead to soothe me. I try to focus on that. 

Time seems to move ten times as slowly and just as I'm starting to realise I won't make it, I hear footsteps and voices coming closer. The last one I hear before I pass out is Liam's telling Niall and Harry to hurry up.

 

I'm surprised I'm still alive in the morning. I don't know how I got here, but I find myself on the beach in Harry's arms. He's shaking, and I realise so is the hand on my shoulder. Liam's.

It's Niall who sits down in front of my and takes my hands in his. For the first time since we left the house, he's crying. After taking a deep breath, his voice is shaky as he asks, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

I look at the blue sea behind him, then back at his equally blue eyes.

As soon as I nod, Liam's head falls onto my shoulder. It's hard to hear him cry, but this is for the best, I know that. This is what I need to do.

I don't have it in me to tell them goodbye. I think we've done that countless of times over the past days without really realising it. Instead of empty words, I try giving them each the most meaningful look I can.

And then I move towards the sea.

It takes every bit of strength I have left inside me to walk over to the shore line, but I get there. The cold of the water against my legs doesn't phase me as I walk in. It's not nearly as bad as the pain I've felt over the past months. Nothing compared to what happened to my body last night.

I'm in up to my chin when I feel the water move around me. Turning around, I see Liam by my side. We float around for minutes, just staring at each other.

“You've ruined this camping trip,” he says, tears forming in his eyes again. “Can we go home now, please?” He looks so small, so fragile. It takes a lot not to go back and stay just for him, but I can't. Not anymore. “Lou, I'm scared,” he says.

“I'm sorry,” I say, and I mean it. “If you can't do this, tell me. I'll swim as far as I can, but I'd rather not be alone, mate.”

He just looks at me and cries, and I cup his face. “Liam, please. Please.”

It's not fair to beg him, but I need him here.

His face changes from pained to determined and he nods.

I go under first and for a second I'm afraid he might not join me, but then he does. We grab at each other's shirts and hair, as if trying to hold onto each other somehow while saying goodbye at the same time.

There's a battle going on inside me as my lungs fight against the salty water—the battle that I wanted, the whole reason why I did this. It feels right. I wouldn't want it any other way.

I cup Liam's face one last time as I feel the last bit of air in my chest be replaced by water.

Keeping my eyes open as long as I can, my best friend is the last thing I will ever see.

 

_ So I raise a morphine toast to you all _

_ And, if you should happen to remember,  _

_ it's the  _ _ anniversary of my birth _

_ Remember that you were loved by me _

_ And that you made my life a happy one _

_ And there's no tragedy in that _

 

 


End file.
